To Want To Feel Like A Princess For A Day
by sctwilightvampwolfgal
Summary: Alya knew better than to slip on the caramel brown dress in the washroom yet she couldn't resist taking a moment to step away from her problems, her worries, and her concerns. She knew well enough that she could be caught within the palace walls and that she had no perfect excuse to tell the princess of the kingdom.
1. Chapter 1

She swiftly tied the bow at her back and stared in the mirror on display in the little or well big compared to where she lived room; her hair fell down like the gentle tempest of the sea, and her eyes glimmered so darkly yet so delicately.

For a moment, she looked as if she could be a queen, could afford to live in an extravagant place such as this, and for a moment, she didn't have to worry about making ends meet for her sick father and trying to make sure that her younger siblings and her mother would get food to eat.

She was old enough to marry yet knew that she'd never marry well due to her social standing and knew even then that if she were to marry, she couldn't manage to take care of her family.

For now, she'd sneak to steal minor intricacies from the castle walls or other places and would work odd jobs that could hide the occasional female worker.

She'd even pretended to be a boy a handful of times.

For just a moment, Alya could see herself as a queen or a princess of some sort and not as some nobody snooping around the palace for priceless jewels to sell that no one would immediately recognize and remember.

There was a merchant, just a little south west of here, that would buy anything stolen from the royal family and sell them amongst other merchants or even send a loyal merchant of his out to sell it.

Sometimes he sold them to small general stores that would buy anything and everything; he'd either wear a disguise when he sold them or send something not quite affiliated with him or aware of who he was to sell it to them. They rarely got caught.

Alya sighed, already dropping the dress down to her feet, and stepping away from the far too big mirror to grab her own clothes, ones that always made her look a little tomboyish and in the best case scenario like a boy.

The door opened, and she half screeched as she dove to hide, already hearing the voices from the other side of the door.

"You can't become a designer or sew clothes, you know that. It's not befitting for a princess or a soon to be queen, and on top of that, no man wants to marry a seamstress. Your fingers will grow worn and weary from working the needle, and you'll slowly rot away from old age." A voice scorned whoever they were talking to.

"I know, I know." The woman sighed, and suddenly Alya caught sight of her.

Princess Marinette stood in a beautiful and elegant, black dress that looked like nothing of the fashion of the time, revolutionary and possibly a little bit scandalous.

The black dress looked soft and smooth to the touch; was that silk that adorned the dress?

There were numerous black bows and ribbon tied all around it, several left loose and hanging for a moment as she stood tall, blue eyes darkened and glistening from the black of the dress.

"Holy smokes." Alya barely suppressed anymore sound from escaping as she slapped her hand over her mouth.

The princess spun around to face the door that she'd entered from, long blue black hair cascading around her, looking like a smooth waterfall, probably just a little shy of soft to the touch.

"If you can excuse your highness, I have to step out of my design." She smiled as if she wasn't about to check the washroom for a stowaway and ushered the assistant, possibly a handmaiden, away from her side.

Princess Marinette was met with strong protests though she shut the door behind her and peeked down to chance a glance at Alya, "Oh, hi." She took a deep breath, and Alya was once again lost in the beauty of this girl though her dress still revealed more of her leg than many would be comfortable with and looked like a corset based top or at the very least like it could be untied at any moment and fall apart in her hands.

"Hi." Alya gulped, realizing that she was still in her undergarments which weren't much more than underwear as she couldn't afford any more than what she was wearing; she wished that she was still standing in that caramel, brown dress that hugged her chest and made her look much less tomboyish and that the bow at the back was the only bow and how the dress complemented her hair and skin so well and made her stand out like a beautiful princess even though rationally she knew that the princess owned the dress that Alya had previously tried on.

"What happened?" The princess seemed gentle which felt as if it were a dream come true and pressed closer, eyes alight with some blaze of curiosity.

"I-I-I shouldn't be here." For once, Alya was at a loss for words; she'd always had a clever lie to back her up or some quick handed words to ensure a clean escape from whatever may entrap her, but for today, she was stuck in her undergarments, practically nude, in front of the princess that would undoubtedly rule the kingdom one day.

"That's fine." Princess Marinette smiled, and she never looked more angelic in her life though black had never been a color to be associated with angels.

"I-I was trying to steal from you." Alya barely let the words hiss out of her throat.

"You were trying on a dress and letting yourself feel and look beautiful for once, and you had to have been planning to steal from me for a good reason." Marinette shrugged, looking less like a princess and more like just a beautiful, possibly well dressed woman.

"I-I had a good reason." Alya couldn't dare say it; it jeopardized her family's lives way too much for the words to be spoken aloud.

"I trust you." Princess Marinette smiled though she stepped in to the room further and starting untying her dress, and surprisingly, it didn't fall into her hands in the least once she finished. Princess Marinette instead pulled the dress up over her head and stepped out of it, slipping out of her fancy shoes in the next instant.

She reached for the brown dress, already placing it on, tying the bow behind her with a practiced and effortless seeming ease that left such a beautiful bow in place. It was magical to just see.

The light brown hues of the dress left her skin looking paler in contrast which done wonders to an already pretty woman, and her eyes literally popped under the brown color contrasting against their delicate blue, and her hair fell like a dark curtain across the ruffles and making each ruffle appear to have more floof to it than it being straight or flat as her hair was straight, not curved or even curly unlike Alya's.

"Wow." Alya murmured, eyes drawn to the gorgeous princess before her.

Marinette smiled though looked somewhat nervous as she offered Alya to try on her black dress, and Alya obliged if only to avoid getting sent to jail or executed or perhaps by the casual beauty of the black dress and imagining what it would be like if a princess dressed her up.

Alya stepped into the dress and let the princess tie many of the bows around her, still leaving some loose, and smiling at her.

She grew surprised to see how her chest look a little more pronounced under the black fabric and the way it curved her sides and brought her waist in just a little bit; her hair contrasted sharply with the mostly straight fabric, and her ankles peeked out perfectly from the dress like a beacon of perfect light. Her eyes were darkened to an almost exotic brown color from the black fabric, and her skin tone was lightened just enough for her to feel as if she had some resemblance to the much paler princess.

"You're beautiful." Princess Marinette smiled, and perhaps that's why Alya felt almost thankful to have met her this day and been at the palace for so long.

Alya offered to escape the way the dress made her feel, so that she could hide her gender and escape and was pleasantly surprised that Marinette had slipped her some sweets and a little bit of money to survive off of until they met again.


	2. Chapter 2

Alya stared at the small collection of jewels in her hand, counting them up with a practiced eased, tucked discretely outside of obvious sight in a half hidden alley not far from the merchant.

It had been weeks since she'd last tried on dresses, weeks since she'd felt like a princess, a queen.

Alya smiled faintly at the memory though couldn't work up the nerve to go back to the palace; if someone comes to know of her thievery, it is more than likely that she'll be caught and found out.

She sighed, smiling at the fact that just may be she might make two hundred dollars, two to three hundred, and that she could buy the sweet bread that her younger siblings liked from the nearby, well known bakery on the way home.

Alya tucked her long-ish hair out of the way, tucking it beneath the hat on top of her head, and shifting in her oversized, tomboyish clothes that she'd found in her family's collection of hand me downs that they were too poor to ever consider getting rid of. The clothes were worn from years of use, countless owners in the same blood line, and were half falling apart at certain seams.

She entered the building, finding her way with ease to the counter, having made this journey many times in the past, too many to stumble on the fairly easy way to the counter.

"Oh, my favorite thief has arrived. So tell me what do you have there?" The man behind the counter smirked, looking elated, and would be seen as suspicious if it had been anyone else; he was still blissfully unaware that she was a woman beneath the bundles of used, worn fabric, and Alya intended to keep it that way.

She handed the jewels over carefully, silently demanding a fair price.

"Sorry, mister. The guards are starting to suspect me, I can only pay you a hundred and twenty."

She sighed, "That's fine." Her voice deepened to convey a more masculine heavy tone, hoping like always whenever she was forced to speak when dressed as a man that it worked, convincing the man of her identity.

"Alright," He handed it over, and it still felt heavy under the weight of its worth though if she hoped to make sure that her family would be well taken care of for a while, medicine bought, and that they could have food for her small time off of thievery, she'd need to make it last.

She'd buy the smallest amount of day or two day old bread that her siblings liked; it would take too much to buy fresh bread even with a hundred and twenty dollars.

Alya left with a casual, weak wave and found her steps back towards her home after first stopping by the bakery and convincing the family there that, 'yes, she was fine with just buying a small bit of few day old bread and that she definitely did not need a whole loaf of fresh bread.'

She sighed; the family was more than nice and that other than the quality and the endorsing by the royal family was enough to make the bakery as well known as it was.

Alya entered the small house, really just a room big, where her family and a few other families lived; it was a quaint, little place though not fancy in the least.

She'd missed bathing time again as she caught on to the fact that her sister's hair was still a little bit wet, but it would be okay; she was just thankful to help out her family in anyway that she could.

Alya split the bread, even sharing with a few kids from the other families that lived there, when they asked.

"Tomorrow, I'll go get your medicine." She told her father and knew that she'd bring the doctor around to check up on him; doctor's visits were one of the rare things that bustled everyone to cleaning up and making the place look less sad, much more welcoming, inviting, though nothing ever quite worked.


	3. Chapter 3

Alya had long since gotten used to her life, did whatever she could for her family's sake, and was just relieved that a few days ago, the doctor had seen her father and even given him some medicine to take.

She though had to brave the crowds within the marketplace for the best deals for food and even medicine that a few, lone doctors had set up some time ago.

Once a month or once every two months, she'd trace that familiar trail through the marketplace to buy cheaper food that was still pretty good quality and sometimes rivaled the quality of smaller shops that dotted the square and even further out; the bakery that her sisters liked never set up a stall, so she never could on these days buy them their favorite bread.

The stalls around her sold everything from fresh fruit to beautiful, hand crafted jewelry, to fabric for seamstresses that often needed to make their way to the marketplace three or four times a week to buy fabric and afford to keep their businesses up and running.

Alya vaguely recalled as she checked some apples and debated over whether she should buy the sweet fruit and could afford it, the kind of way that seamstresses were seen.

They made beautiful clothing that only the wealthy seemed able to afford though they often were next to broke and struggled to survive for their businesses' sakes and often developed callouses on their fingers from working the needle so often.

Seamstresses never married though their designs swept whole towns if they were any good; Alya had thought about becoming one a long time ago when her father first became sick, but she knew that her mind didn't have the creative capabilities nor did her fingers have the ability to craft beautiful clothing.

She'd always preferred listening to the chaos around her and retelling it in an almost heroic manner to her younger sisters, often did so when she wasn't so busy making sure that they had food to eat.

Alya remembered a day in the palace walls and a princess who held a flame for a passion that she couldn't reach out for and grab a hold of.

The young woman frowned as she left the stall with a happy enough wave to check and see if she should buy and store some more medicine for her father; medicine was much more important for her to pick up regardless of how may be an apple may leave them all excited over the ripe, just sweet enough fruit.

She blinked as she tumbled, half falling past fabric which was odd really, because the fabric stands set up where on the other side of the marketplace, and moved to catch herself beside a young woman about her age before her eyes lit up in recognition. Alya knew her!

Admittingly, Alya wasn't supposed to know her or really have talked to her before especially since the young woman had decided to dress up in a disguise for this particular outing.

She wore an older, peasant styled dress that was a pale, orange color that fell too big on her, dwarfing the young, noble woman and making Alya wonder how she'd avoided being recognized in that get up.

"Oh, oh." She stood up, picking up layers of fabric that Alya remembered soon enough to help her out with.

"Sorry." Alya shrugged as she helped the princess carry the fabric before moving out of the crowded marketplace.

"Thank you." The princess smiled another dazzling smile towards Alya, so reminiscent of the day that they'd met for the first time.

"It was no problem at all. Why are you here in the marketplace when you're not supposed to be?" Alya watched as some people shoved and pushed through the crowd, a thief being captured early on with his quickly failing attempt at trying to steal; Alya knew way better.

When the marketplace was crowded, there was much less room to run away or cleverly slip away, forcing pickpockets or other thieves close to the person that they were stealing from, immensely slowing them down, snagging hands temporarily between the place that they were stealing from and their own bodies.

Alya was smart enough to know a disaster when she saw one.

She'd never bothered to steal from the marketplace, getting caught was definitely not on her list of priorities.

"I try to sneak away every now and again to buy fabric and other material." The princess' face lit up with a light blush as nerves kicked in before she shifted gears, "Why are you here?"

"I head to the marketplace every now and again to buy medicine and food." Alya shrugged, and it was easy to pretend that she wasn't a thief that just happened to be talking to the future queen of their kingdom.

"That makes sense." Princess Marinette smiled, "Here, let me help you with what you need."

"That won't be necessary." Alya sent a hopefully reassuring smile towards the princess, "I have the money for what I need, and you don't need to spill your fabric on to the street and get it ruined."

Princess Marinette gave her a look, and Alya wondered just how stubborn the woman was as they wandered back to the marketplace and despite Alya's protests, bought medicine and food for the thief.


End file.
